


Till Human Voices Wake Us

by artamisward



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artamisward/pseuds/artamisward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU. Of ancient magic born. By ancient magic bound. Death and Destruction shall commune. Sisters twain shall consummate and bring forth Winter. And usher the close of all. No wall or standard shall stand at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Human Voices Wake Us

**Author's Note:**

> I was browsing through some elsannaheadcanons and come across a Harry Potter AU prompt that stuck my fancy. It grew into something I may or may not continue. The quote I use at the end is one from Charles Bukowski

The snow falling softly on the empty grounds muffles the silence surrounding Hogwarts; it dissolves the world into a soft whiteness and comfortable loneliness, making everything lovely in a way only lonely things can be: untouched, unloved, unbroken.

Still in her school robes, Elsa is a silhouette against the white canvas of freshly fallen snow. She walks through it easily, leaving no trace in the soft snow. She’s at ease in her element. It’s an environment she’s used to, a loneliness she’s become accustomed to. Even at Hogwarts, surrounded by people, she’s still alone.

A slight shift in atmosphere pulls Elsa from her musings. She can feel the approach of footsteps and immediately pulls her wand from her robes and grips it tightly. She turns, left hand at the ready, only to stop short at the sight of a pudgy little snowman waving frantically at the falling snow. “Olaf,” her voice is warm, “what are you doing?” She puts her wand away without the snowman even noticing.

“Hey, Elsa,” Olaf is always overly excited. His smile is wide as he turns his face toward her. “I was enjoying this new snow! What are you doing out here all alone? Shouldn’t you be packing to leave for Christmas?” He waddles beside Elsa as she starts walking again. “It is Christmas, isn’t it? I thought I saw a reindeer.” He shrugs with his whole body. “It might’ve been an owl.”

Elsa listens to Olaf talk mostly to himself. “I’m not going home to an empty house and a locked room. I’d rather stay here, at least free to roam the grounds. I’m always alone no matter where I am but here I don’t have to hide.” It’s a statement of fact delivered with little inflection and a lifetime of truth.

Olaf stops abruptly. “You don’t have to be. Alone. Or hidden. Anna misses you.”

Elsa stops at the edge of the lake that refuses to freeze despite the cold. _Magic, such an odd thing_. She sits and contemplates the snow melting as it touches the water. “I miss her, too, so much.”

The snowman plops down next to her. “Maybe we can spend Christmas together,” his excitement is evident in the octave of his voice, “Anna stayed, too. Along with that boy with the blond mop on his head. He’s nice but smells funny.”

“Kristoff.” Elsa doesn’t like the emotion that burns through her at the thought of Anna spending so much of her time with the Hufflepuff.

“Huh. I thought his name was Sven.” Olaf rocks back and forth. “He helps Anna’s loneliness.”

Elsa tries not to concentrate on the stab of pain those words cause her. “I’m glad for that. I just hope he’s good for her. I’d hate to think she’s interested in someone who doesn’t value her.”

“You could always talk to Anna about it.” Olaf’s reasoning is sound logic.

“I can’t,” Elsa says it with finality.

“Why not?” Olaf never takes hints, obvious or subtle.

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Then don’t.” The snowman approaches the lake and stares at himself in the water. Elsa marvels that she could create such a creature who thinks so differently from her.

“It’s not that easy, Olaf,” Elsa’s voice is soft. “I almost killed her when we were little. I didn’t mean to, but it happened anyway. So, I can’t go near her. And, she can’t come near me.”

“Is that why you’re in different Houses?” Olaf looks at her expectantly.

“I don’t know for certain.” Elsa shrugs. “The Sorting Hat asked me, so I chose Ravenclaw. I knew Anna would end up in Gryffindor. She’s always had too big a heart, too much bravery, too much emotion. ” A sad smile crosses a pale face. “She’s always the one that keeps trying when logic and sense have said give up. She always puts heart before mind.”

“And you’re the one that listens to logic and sense, the one who puts mind before heart. It makes sense. Would it be easier if she stopped trying to reconnect with you?” The snowman asks the simple questions with the difficult answers.

“I think it would kill me if she ever stopped.” It’s no more than a whisper that the snow muffles into nothingness, but Olaf has exceptional hearing for a creature without ears.

“Maybe you should give her a reason to keep trying then,” he slips closer to his maker, offering what small comfort he can.

Elsa allows the familiarity; Olaf is the only friend she has. “How does Kristoff treat her?” The question is tentative; the blonde isn’t sure she wants to know the answer.

“He’s a good companion. I think they suit each other well as friends.” Elsa’s heart drops a little at the words. “But,” the snowman switches gears without warning, “I don’t think it’s Kristoff your sister is interested in. She likes that boy with the pretty face. What’s his name? Henry? Harry? Hans?” He scrunches his face in thought. “Hans! Yes, Anna likes Hans.”

The statement makes Elsa’s whole thought process screech to a halt. “Hans?”

Olaf hums in the affirmative and misses the darkening atmosphere descending around them.

“Hans is a seventh year, like me.” Elsa stands to pace. The restless energy makes her voice sharp. Kristoff is one thing. He’s acceptable. He’s a fifth year. He’s _nice_. But Hans…Hans is a rival, an enemy. Theirs is an old animosity. “He’s Head Boy, he should know better.”

“Two qualities Anna likes, I think,” Olaf stares at Elsa pace.

“He’s arrogant, selfish, and empty-headed.” Elsa is almost growling. She feels inexplicably possessive of a sister which she doesn’t even allow near her. “He’s a snake,” it explodes from her chest, in anger and fear.

“Yes!” Olaf nods vigorously. “He takes much pride in the fact.”

That pulls a smile from Elsa’s lips dissipating her anger. She sits next to the snowman again. “What does a Gryffindor even see in a Slytherin? Aren’t they supposed to be sworn enemies?”

“Anna has never been one for established norms,” Olaf says absently looking up at the clouds snowing down on them.

Elsa smiles. “No. Too much heart.”

* * *

_“I wish she knew how much I love that about her.”_

“Hellloooo…” Kristoff pokes her in the shoulder, “Earth to Anna.”

Anna shakes herself from her stupor. “Sorry,” she smiles ruefully, “kinda got lost in my own world there.”

Kristoff looks at her curiously. “You all right? You’ve been really quiet today.” His eyes show genuine concern.

“What?” Anna waves it off. “No, no. I’m fine. I’ve just had my mind on stuff and things…” She cringes at her own words. “I mean, I’ve just had school and the holidays and…and…”

“It’s Elsa, isn’t it?”

Anna sighs heavily.

“You should just talk to her and tell her whatever’s been making you so,” he waves his hands while looking for the right words, “unlike yourself.”

“I would if she weren’t as elusive as water in a desert.” Kristoff raises his eyebrows at that, but Anna barrels forward. “And, what do you mean _unlike_ myself?” She gives Kristoff her full attention.

They walk out of the castle and shudder inside their robes at the difference in temperature. Kristoff casts a warming charm on them before whistling for his owl. He consciously ignores answering the redhead’s question.

“Kristoff,” Anna stops walking and taps her foot impatiently, prompting him to continue.

“You’ve been acting funny, that’s all,” Kristoff shrugs, ruffling Sven’s feathers, pulling Anna to keep walking.

“Well thanks, that’s not at all vague and ambiguous.” She smiles and shakes her head at him.

“You’re quiet, you’re not eating, you’re distracted, you’re always daydreaming,” Kristoff looks at her seriously, his voice low, revealing something he doesn’t particularly like, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were lovesick.”

Anna’s whole body tenses. “What?”

“You know, I’ve got to be honest,” Kristoff doesn’t look her in the eyes, “I don’t like it.”

_Oh god, how does he know?_ Anna blanches and curls in on herself in defense of her best friend’s judgment.

The blond doesn’t notice because he’s making agitated gestures and not looking at the redhead. “…he’s kind of an ass. And, just because he’s Head Boy and a seventh year doesn’t mean anything. I mean, come on Anna, you can do better than that slimy Slytherin.”

Relief floods through the redhead so fast it leaves her lightheaded and breathless. She starts laughing until tears leak out of her eyes. _Thank god! He thinks I like Hans._ Kristoff and Sven look at her like she’s crazy.

“I don’t like Hans, Kristoff,” she gulps in big breaths of air and wipes her eyes. “At least,” chuckles escape her periodically, “not like that.”

He looks at her skeptically. Even Sven cocks his head sideways at her.

“I don’t, I promise,” she’s emphatic, “It’s just nice to be noticed sometimes. To be acknowledged.” Kristoff’s face becomes unreadable. “In that way.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing,” Kristoff says quietly, “Don’t underestimate his intent. He probably has a whole plan hatched up to ensure your interest.”

“He’s harmless,” she waves Kristoff’s worries away.

“Yeah, whatever,” he shakes his head at her. “Look there’s your sister,” he points in the direction of the lake, “go have a girly chat with her. Maybe she can make you see reason.”

Kristoff shoves a stunned Anna in the direction of an unsuspecting Elsa.

* * *

“Oh look,” Olaf stands in excitement, “Anna! Hello!”

Elsa goes rigid. She stands slowly, not wanting to turn, not wanting to face the supplicating face of the person she’s always disappointing.

But, when she looks up she doesn’t find what she’s expecting. Anna doesn’t rush her like she usually does. The redhead is practically being pushed in Elsa’s direction by her blond friend and she looks ashen, like she’s seen a ghost.

The hesitation, the reluctance, is so unusual that Elsa steps toward her sister. “Anna,” it’s out of her mouth before Elsa is aware she has spoken. And for the first time in their stilted interactions, Anna takes a step back.

Elsa doesn’t understand at first; she takes another step forward. Her next step falters with the realization that Anna is retreating from her. The irony of the moment is bitter on her tongue. The jagged pain that sears her chest is immediate and severe. _Is this how she feels every time I turn away from her?_

“Well, isn’t this touching.” The tense stillness is broken by the words of the approaching Slytherin. Hans smiles widely at Anna, walking up and exchanging whispers with the redhead. Kristoff rolls his eyes in disgust and steps away from them. Elsa stands dumbstruck.

“Elsa,” Hans turns to address the blonde while slipping his hand into the redhead’s. His familiarity with Anna sparks something dark in Elsa. “It’s so good to see you outside the castle walls.”

“Hans,” her tone is cool. She finds she has a brand new dislike for the smarmy young man. She doesn’t like that he’s touching Anna. She doesn’t like that he feels entitled to even address himself toward her sister in such a manner. She doesn’t like him. At all. “Take your hands off my sister.”

She advances on them. Anger and jealousy and possessiveness burn through her, hot and acrid, leaving her at the edge of her control. It’s beyond her how quickly she feels herself slipping; she doesn’t understand but her blood screams in her veins for _something_ ineffable.

Hans laughs. “Calm down, princess,” he loves getting under Elsa’s skin, “I promise I won’t break her.” He winks at Elsa, his implication clear.

A small explosion of rage bursts through Elsa’s chest. The atmosphere chills distinctly. Only Olaf notices.

“Hey,” Anna tears her hand out of his, “I’m right here. And, I belong to neither of you.” She folds her arms across her chest and scowls at them.

“I’m just joking, Anna. You know that,” Hans turns to the redhead, contrition written across his face. He clutches Anna’s hands and looks at her with big eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I’m only giving Elsa a hard time. I’m sorry.”

Anna melts against his words. Elsa seethes; it ignites her blood like a flame touching gasoline. She feels the ridges of her wand against her hand suddenly, and she’s moving. The wind howls and the previous chill is now evidently noticeable. The falling snow turns into shards of ice raining down on them. But Elsa isn’t focused on her surroundings, she has only eyes for Anna and the place where Hans’ hands are still on the redhead. She’s at the edge of some chasm that she didn’t even know existed within herself, and she doesn’t think she can step back from it. “I. Said. Take. Your. Hands. Off. My. Sister!” The blonde’s voice booms and bounces off the falling ice.

Anna’s eyes widen in shock at Elsa’s predatory advance. Hans’ face twists in a self-satisfied smirk as he draws his wand. _Make me_ he mouths with his face turned away from Anna but his arm encircling her possessively.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kristoff tries to interject in what’s quickly devolving into something very dangerous, “let’s all take a deep breath and calm down.”

“Yeah.” Anna pulls herself out of Hans’ arms and makes her way toward Kristoff. “Whatever this is has to stop before we all get in trouble.” Her blue eyes are clouded with confusion as she studies Elsa.

Hans shrugs smoothly, seemingly acquiescing. “You know, I find interesting…” He puts the tip of his wand against his chin putting an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness on his face. “That in the four years Anna has been attending Hogwarts you’ve never directed a word, a look, an acknowledgment of existence her way…” He raises his eyebrows at Elsa, eyes pinning her still in her anger. “ _Until_ she starts getting attention of a romantic kind.” His eyes glance toward Anna before looking back at Elsa. “One could almost call that jealousy.”

Everything in Elsa stands still. Every molecule of her being halts at the implication of Hans’ words. _Oh god…how could he possibly know?_

“Can’t stand to see her happy?” Hans goads, stepping close enough to the blonde that his back is to the others.

Relief almost dissipates Elsa’s anger.

“Don’t worry.” Hans leans in close, his words for Elsa’s ears only. “After I’m done with her, I could always give you a pity fuck.”

Elsa snaps. Her wand whistles through the air as the spell rolls off her tongue, “ _Stupify_.”

But, Hans is prepared with a shield charm. And, he quickly goes on the offensive. He’s an excellent duelist. He smirks with satisfaction as fire licks Elsa’s hand, leaving an angry red mark.

Elsa retaliates in kind. She’s not as well practiced as Hans, but she’s much angrier than he is.

“I think,” Olaf runs up to the shell shocked figures of Anna and Kristoff, “it’s time to get some adult assistance.”

They turn to run inside but in that moment Hans disarms Elsa and Anna’s feet take her to her sister and not to find help.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_.”

Elsa immediately feels the constriction of invisible bonds and feels herself fall stiffly onto soft snow. She hears the crunch of snow underneath Hans’ feet as he approaches. She sees Anna running toward them. In a moment of fear of what Hans might do to her sister, Elsa panics.

Hans laughs at her struggle, tut-tutting at her condescendingly.

Fear, anger and desperation—that has only increased—flares through slender limbs and torso. Her hands frost over, pressing magic against magic. A moment of epiphany strikes Elsa: she not only controls magic, she _is_ magic. With utmost confidence, Elsa releases a surge of her power, breaking the bonds of Hans’ spell.

The Slythern steps back, a look of horror on his face, as Elsa rises. “How?” His face contorts in fear. “That’s not possible.”

Elsa savors the fear pouring off him. She clenches her hand and freezes the snow at his feet making him stubble and fall. She nears him with a euphoric sense of victory. An awful thought enters her head as Hans scrambles away from her. She entertains it, momentarily. Her mind begins forming the shard that she’s going to use to pierce his heart.

“You’re a monster,” Hans doesn’t stutter but his voice is tight and waivers.

Elsa feels the shape of a smile form across her face but all she feels inside is anger and bloodlust.

“Elsa.”

Anna’s voice breaks through into Elsa’s mind. The terrible act she was considering pushes her back into reality and shatters the remains of her anger.

Anna slowly approaches the unusually still blonde and the prostrate Slytherin.

But, Elsa flees before Anna can reach out and touch her.

* * *

“Elsa!” Anna runs after her sister leaving Kristoff with Hans.

She slips on the slick snow and loses Elsa around a bend. She stands and rubs her sore knees before continuing at a much slower pace. Anna suspects she knows where Elsa is headed. She wanders up the winding staircases to the west side of the school.

Anna stands on the fifth floor of the western tower looking up at the eagle staring at her with bronze eyes. There is no doorknob or keyhole she can see on the imposing door, but she wasn’t expecting one. She’s heard Elsa walk through this doorway with Olaf enough times to know that this House doesn’t do password in the conventional sense.

The eagle flutters its bronze wings as she approaches the final feet to the door. “I desire entrance.”

The eagle looks at her with sharp eyes before a softer voice than Anna was expecting speaks, “Had by few but treasured by all. I'm on the inside and outside and I make men fall. What am I?”

Anna sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting on it, as she thinks. The eagle looks on quietly. The redhead mumbles softly to herself as her brain works out the riddle. _Why can’t Ravenclaw have normal things like passwords? No, they have to be different and sophisticated and oh so smart._ She blows a puff of air through her bangs.

Anna begins pacing, her mind working through each part of the riddle. Her hands move in wild motions as a reflection of her scattered thoughts. _Okay, not a lot of people have it but everyone likes it. Money? Maybe…but—no. You can’t have money on the inside, only on the outside. Power? Uhhh…yeah power can be inside and outside…but it isn’t liked by all. Love—maybe…it makes men and women fall, and it’s on the inside and outside, and it’s treasured by all…_ Anna opens her mouth to speak but abruptly remembers the first part. _But, a lot more than a few have it._ She snaps her mouth closed in consternation.

“UUgghhh—” Anna tips her head back and closes her eyes. _What could it be?_ Blue eyes open and look around the hall for inspiration. The statue of Rowena Ravenclaw catches her attention. Anna studies it for a long moment before a thought squirms its way to the forefront of her mind.

“Uhhmmm…beauty?” She’s surprised as the door swings open silently, granting her entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower.

Anna slips passed the threshold into the common room. She stops and gawks at the place. Anna feels small in the room. It’s a wide, circular room that gives the illusion of depth and tallness and makes the redhead feel like she could float away. The midnight blue carpet, arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks, and domed ceiling painted with stars speaks to a quiet stillness and sophistication. Anna feels like she shouldn’t touch anything in the room, it’s all so neat and organized, the tables, chairs, and bookcases lined meticulously and imposing as only things with gravitas can be. The wind whistling around the tower is soothing in a way she didn’t think possible. _This epitomizes Elsa. No wonder the Sorting Hat put her here._

Her footsteps are silent in the lush carpet as she moves deeper into the room. There’s a stillness, an air of quietness, that makes Anna hesitate. She’s intruding on the most private House, _should I even be here?_ But a deep solitude also permeates the atmosphere, draping the room in hues of loneliness. That reminds her of Elsa, too. And, of herself.

They’re not so different, the two of them. Cut from the same cloth. Suffering the same loneliness. But, while Elsa runs. Anna pursues.

Meandering her way up the spiraling stairs to the dormitories, Anna’s resolve is cemented with each step. She’s not at all sure what she’s going to do; but, she’s certain that she will do it.

Turning to the private quarters reserved for the Head Girl, the redhead stops at a large, ornate, wooden door. She takes a fortifying breath and lifts her hand.

And, deciding on a course of action, Anna knocks.

* * *

The knock surprises Elsa. No other Ravenclaws had stayed over the Christmas break.

She ignores it. But, it comes again, louder, more insistent. _Maybe it’s McGonagall. Maybe she found out what happened by the lake._ Elsa swallows nervously before she straightens her back and strides across the room. Taking a deep breath, she opens the door.

What she sees on the other side of the door makes her stomach drop. _I’m not ready for this._

Anna waves at her and smiles nervously. Elsa considers closing the door on her sister, but the redhead has put her foot in the entrance, barring the door from being closed.

“What are you doing here?” Elsa steps back, retreating from the door.

Anna takes that as invitation and glides in, slamming the door closed behind her. The sound makes the blonde flinch. “Sorry,” comes her sister’s hasty apology.

They measure each other for long, silent minutes. Elsa is only a little bit shocked Anna can stay quiet for such an extended period of time. But, mostly the blonde is too preoccupied with her erratic heartbeat and runaway thoughts to notice her sister’s lack of verbosity.

“How did you even know how to get up here?” Elsa has to say something before they both turn into statues. _If I talk, she might leave faster._

Anna bounces on the balls of her feet and looks away guiltily. “Olaf.”

Elsa knows there’s a lot more to that than what is obviously apparent, but now is not the time to pursue that. “Anna, why did you come? You know you shouldn’t be here.” The blonde does her best to keep her voice neutral and her face blank. She has to pretend it’s nothing to send the redhead away. She has to pretend she doesn’t see the pain that crosses freckled features and the hurt that resides in blue eyes. She has to pretend she doesn’t feel her heart crack just a little bit more at the cruelty she exposes them both to.

“Why—” Anna stops herself. Elsa can see her physically pull back whatever question she was going to ask. “Did Hans hurt you?” She takes a step toward the blonde.

“No.” Elsa steps back.

Anna’s face crumbles, but she pulls herself together so quickly Elsa isn’t sure she saw correctly. “I don’t understand you.” It’s an accusation.

The statement falls against Elsa’s mind like a slap. She says nothing. It’s a true statement. Elsa doesn’t even understand herself.

Anna ruffles through her robes and produces a long, white wand. Elsa’s wand. “I came to return this.” She places it on the desk nearest her. She turns to leave.

Elsa is conflicted. _She should leave. I need to let her leave._ “Thank you.” _I don’t want her to leave._

Anna looks back at the blonde. She worries her bottom lip before taking a fortifying breath. “I also came to tell you that I don’t blame you for what happened when we were little. I know it was an accident. But, if you need to hear me say it, I forgive you. I forgive you, Elsa. And…and…you don’t have to stay away. You don’t have to wall yourself in. You don’t have to be lonely.”

The words hit Elsa hard. Her heart hammers and her lungs have forgotten how to breathe.

“I love you.” Anna’s face is flushed and she can’t look Elsa directly in the eyes, but she’s so sincere.

Elsa turns away. _You have no idea what love is._

“How can you possibly say that?”

_Did I say that out loud?_ Elsa doesn’t turn around, but she can hear Anna approach her.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be ignored and passed over by someone you admire and respect? Do you know what it’s like to be shut down and shut up by someone who should always be willing to listen? Do you know what it’s like to never be acknowledged by someone who sees you but doesn’t bother to notice you?” Anna’s voice is tight and angry, tears residing just on the other side of that anger. She hasn’t touched Elsa or turned her around—though she’s directly behind her sister—but her emotion fills the room. “Do you know what it’s like to love that person anyway? And try again and again and again to get her to love me back.” The tears have broken through and spilled into Anna’s voice. “Maybe it’s you, Elsa, that has no idea what love is.”

“Love is this.” Elsa is shaking, her body, her voice, her soul. “Love is protecting you. Even if it’s from myself.”

“No! That’s cruelty.”

Elsa whirls around. Angry. At herself. At her situation. “You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from you. You have no idea how much I love you. You have no idea the lengths I would go for you, Anna.”

“And you have no idea that I feel exactly the same way.” Anna grabs Elsa’s robes suddenly and pulls the blonde.

Their lips meet roughly. And, for one instant Elsa allows the pull of the love she feels for Anna turn into possessiveness and lust. Her magic pounds against the confines of her skin as she gives it freedom for one second. But sense quickly overrides her initial reaction. “No, Anna. Oh god, no, no…not like this…” She pushes against thin shoulders.

“Then how?” Anna’s breathing is heavy.

Elsa takes Anna’s hands off her robes. But, she doesn’t step back. Everything in her is telling her to taste soft lips again. “Not like that. It isn’t right.” _No matter how good it feels._

“Tell me why you attacked Hans out by the lake.” Anna looks at Elsa like she’s challenging her to deny how she feels.

“Because,” she looks evenly at the redhead, she won’t lie, not with the taste of her sister still on her lips, “I was jealous.”

“And, I would’ve been jealous had the situation been reversed.” Anna is quick to reply. “So, why can’t we love each other like this?” She motions between them as if it encompasses everything unsaid between them.

“The reasons are innumerable.” Elsa can’t keep her eyes off of red lips.

Anna reaches out to gingerly run her hands up Elsa’s arms. The blonde’s eyes flutter closed; she doesn’t stop the touch even though she knows she should. “Tell me why it feels like I’ve always felt this way, then.” Her voice lowers. “It feels like I’ve been fighting it forever. It feels so much better to just give in.” She leans in slowly and places her forehead against Elsa’s collarbone.

Elsa’s body is hot and she feels like she may hyperventilate if she lets herself. Blood pounds in her ears and she feels the world go hazy at the edges of her vision. _This can’t be happening._ A hunger she’s pushed down for years tears through her. And, the magic she _is_ hums through her being in tandem with her beating heart: pushing, pressing for that _something_ she can’t quite describe.

Having Anna pressed against her, assuaging responsibility and guilt, makes Elsa’s resolve waiver. _Just for a moment. I’ll give in just for a moment. I won’t let it go too far. I just need to taste her lips one last time._

Slim hands slide up a robed back. Elsa slips her hands onto Anna’s face, pulling it up so she can look down into blue eyes. She cradles the redhead face and feels the love she’s always felt for her well up inside. “I love you so much.”

And this time, their lips meet gently. And, Elsa opens her mouth because she want so bad to taste and savor the redhead. When Anna opens to her, Elsa is lost. The burst of excitement feels like magic, and she feels like she’s casting a spell for a moment. But thought quickly deserts her. All she can think is _mine._

* * *

Anna surges up against Elsa, excitement and eagerness making her bold. She opens her mouth to taste and be tasted. Everything coalesces into this moment and she finally understands the love she’s always felt for the blonde.

Elsa’s hands move across her body and excitement turns into arousal. When her back hits a wall, it surprises Anna. _We’ve moved_. When Elsa’s thigh presses up into her and her hands find her chest, Anna jumps. _Maybe we’re moving too fast_

The thought flies out of her mind when Elsa deepens the kiss. But something else pulls the redhead’s attention; something is being transferred into her from Elsa’s being. Anna feels a tendril of magic spread from inside her and across her skin. It’s not painful but it’s uncomfortable. She breaks the kiss and looks up at hooded eyes and glistening lips. “Elsa, what is that?”

Elsa scrunches her eyebrows, confusion evident in her face. “What?”

“That magic crawling across my skin.” Anna looks at the translucent blue light emanating from her body.

Elsa steps back a look of horror marring her face. The color drains out of her face and she looks faint.

“Hey,” Anna reaches out to steady the blonde. “Hey, it’s okay. Calm down.”

But it isn’t okay. Anna can feel the magic in and around her hardening. She feels her body being encased in something cold. Fear flashes through her but the magic feels familiar and it reminds her of the blonde.

Anna tries to move but can’t. All she can do is look at Elsa’s stricken face.

* * *

“This is old magic,” Madam Pomfrey completes her examination, “I cannot undo it.”

“But,” Elsa wrings her hands, “there must be something you can do.”

“Not here,” the healer offers what little hope she can, “perhaps at St. Mungo’s they can do something for her.”

The doors to the infirmary swing open ushering in the headmistress. Elsa balks.

“Headmistress,” the air in the room perceptibly chills.

“Do control yourself, Ms. Fǫnn,” the command is tacit.

Elsa clenches her hands into fists and regulates her breathing, the air slowly returns to normal.

The headmistress nods and moves to inspect the living ice before her. “What happened?”

Dread fills Elsa, she doesn’t want to say what happened. She’s still not entirely sure herself. But, it’s all her fault. Everything is her fault.

A piercing green gaze falls upon Elsa; she instinctively knows what Minerva McGonagall is doing, but she’s not practiced enough in legilimency to stop the headmistress. Elsa feels the blood drain out of her face at the displeased thinning of a hard mouth. She’s disappointed one of the only people who has ever truly valued her. The disappointment feels like a physical blow.

“Please excuse us for a moment, Poppy,” the headmistress doesn’t take her eyes off of the blonde.

Madam Pomfrey raises her eyebrows at them but moves to give them the privacy the headmistress desires. The ensuing silence is punctuated only by Elsa’s breathing.

“You froze your sister,” it’s the obviousness of the statement that snaps Elsa out of her stupor.

“I didn’t mean to. She just, sort of, surprised me.”

“St. Mungo’s won’t be able to do anything for her,” the headmistress sighs heavily, “this is old magic. Strong magic. Only by magic wrought can it be unwrought.”

“I don’t know how I did it,” Elsa whispers, her eyes averted.

“Of course you do, child,” McGonagall snaps making the girl flinch. “What were you thinking?”

Elsa shrinks into herself, the self-recrimination already lying heavily on her shoulders. She had hurt Anna, again. And, she had almost…almost…done something so much worse. “Just help me fix her, please.”

“I can do nothing,” there’s great sorrow in the headmistress’ voice, “Only you can bring her back.” Elsa fidgets. “You must kiss her again, with the same intent and passion.” McGonagall lays a hand on a stiff shoulder. “But, you can never do so again, Elsa. She is your sister. You must not. No matter what you may feel for her.”

Blood rushes to pale features, McGonagall doesn’t mince words. Elsa nods slowly, her eyes finally meeting the soft, pitying gaze of a woman she greatly respects. She wants to be angry and rage against the injustice of it all, but all she can feel is the gaping hole inside of her widen. She fights the urge to cry; she’s too old for that silliness. She will not embarrass herself further.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Elsa can’t help the despair that tinges her voice.

“It will.” The certainty is reassuring. “I will give you both a moment of privacy.” The headmistress walks out in a swish of robes.

Elsa stands still for several seconds in the stillness and quietness of the infirmary before she gets enough courage to walk up to the frozen figure of her sister. She looks at Anna trapped in the confines of her own magic, and it tears at her heart.

“I’m sorry.” _For loving you so much. For loving you so inappropriately._ Elsa tenderly traces Anna’s frozen cheek. She feels the resonance of her sister’s life force bounce into her fingertips. She presses her forehead against Anna’s and closes her eyes, delighting in this fleeting touch. Elsa revels in the moment, twisted though it is; it’s the last one she’ll ever have. The closeness, the intimacy, of it can never be repeated. The knowledge makes her ache with a loss deeper than before.

“Oh Anna, I love you so much.” Her heart in her throat, Elsa presses her lips to frozen ones reverently. If it’s the last time she’ll ever touch Anna, she’s going to make the most of it. The unmoving lips are cold under hers, but she’s not bothered by it. Cold is familiar; it’s an old friend with whom she’s well acquainted.

Elsa’s hands cup Anna’s frozen face as she presses herself closer to her sister. The innocuous touch quickly becomes deeper. Passionate. Because Elsa can control ice, meld it to her will, and she wants the touch, the kiss, to be returned. So she cedes control of her power to her sister’s life force underneath the ice. She transfers the inherit will inside her own being to her sister’s so that Anna can have control of the ice encasing her.

Elsa isn’t surprised when arms wrap around her and lips return the kiss. She felt the transfer of power. The kiss continues.

Elsa’s tears make it taste like goodbye.

* * *

“That is powerful magic.”

“Indeed.”

“It can’t be what I think it is. Can it?”

Minerva neither agrees nor disagrees.

“My god, Minerva, they’re sisters.”

The nod is sad and so very tired. “Their magic binds them to the other. They will not be able to resist it forever.”

“But…”

“They have a terrible fate, Poppy. I wish there was something that could be done. But, they are fated to bring forth a winter upon wizarding kind the likes of which we’ve never seen before. Voldemort is going to seem like a walk in the park.”

“They’re innocent.”

“And until they’re not, they are under our protection. It is not our fate to fight the coming war. We shall live in this time of peace and die before their time comes. They will be happy for a while yet, decades perhaps.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Neither witch notices the Head Boy slip out from behind a privacy curtain and quickly exit the infirmary.

* * *

Anna picks up the most recent of Elsa’s letters. Her heart picks up speed at the single sentence scrawled across the parchment.

_My dearest Anna,_

_I’m coming home._

_Love,_

_Elsa_

She had received it several days ago, but the same thrill of excitement flows through her every time she reads it. After four long years of absence, Elsa is coming home.

Anna places the letter back in the box where she keeps all the letters from her sister. They had started to arrive three months into her fifth year at Hogwarts. She distinctly remembers the relief and anger and jubilance and despair that filled her all at once that morning in the Great Hall.

Elsa had finished out her seventh year at Hogwarts, completed her NEWTs, and disappeared from Anna’s life the moment graduation was over. Anna had nearly gone out of her mind with worry, until Minerva McGonagall had taken her aside and told her that Elsa was searching Europe for something.

The letters arrived at least once a week without fail from that moment on. Anna replied to each and every one of them. In them she and Elsa grew to know each other. And Anna fell more in love with Elsa with each word.

It’s wrong. Anna knows it intellectually. But, her heart refuses to acknowledge it as such. And, her magic resonates with Elsa’s; it binds them, makes them an inevitability. She can feel it as deep as the source of her being: she and Elsa are twined.

* * *

Elsa walks onto the grounds of her childhood home. It feels different. Anna has made it different. It no longer feels like the prison she lived in for years. It now feels like home.

She finds Anna walking through the copse of trees that leads to the lake behind their house. Elsa stares at the sight of the redhead, stunned and filled with love and yearning. _She’s even more beautiful._

Anna turns to her and squeaks before breaking into a dead run in her direction. Elsa catches her with a soft exhalation of breath as the force of her sister’s body hits her.

Elsa hugs her for a long time, not wanting to let her go. Affection wells in her.

“Hi,” Anna smiles up at her.

“Hi.” Elsa’s smile is reflexive, Anna’s happiness is contagious.

Elsa wants to kiss her, but she doesn’t want to be presumptuous. But Anna looks at her with the same eyes and expression as before. And, it’s all still there. So, when Anna rises to her tiptoes, Elsa smiles into her sister’s lips.

* * *

“An Auror.” Anna smiles at Elsa’s surprise.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, really. You always did love adventure.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” The redhead waits until after they share a meal before asking.

Elsa sobers. “Yes.”

Anna drinks her tea and studies the planes of her sister’s face. _Still so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember._ “What was it you were looking for?” Curiosity gets the better of her.

Elsa blows out a small breath. She looks down into her tea. “For answers.” She looks up at Anna. “About us.”

Anna sets her tea down. She’s not sure she wants to know what Elsa found out. “I take it they weren’t very pleasant answers.”

Elsa stands and moves to the satchel she brought with her. She pulls out a piece of parchment with a few lines of writing and hands it to Anna.

 

_Of ancient magic born_

_By ancient magic bound_

_Death and Destruction shall commune_

_Sisters twain shall consummate and bring forth Winter_

_And usher the close of all_

_No wall or standard shall stand at the end_

“What is this?” Anna rereads it but doesn’t understand what it has to do with them.

“A rough translation of an old Norwegian prophecy.”

“But, this isn’t about us. I mean, come on Elsa, we aren’t Death and Destruction. This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe.” Elsa shrugs and sits down next to Anna. “But this,” she opens her palm and forms a snowflake in her hand, “is ancient magic.” She moves her hand to trace Anna’s hand, leaving a trail of frost that disappears into Anna’s skin. “And that resistance is also ancient magic.”

“That means nothing.” Anna insists. She doesn’t want to believe they’re fated for such a terrible fate.

“Have you ever wondered at the pull between us?” Elsa is gentle. She’s had several months to come to terms with what she’s telling Anna.

Anna doesn’t respond, but Elsa knows she’s listening. “Our very beings are enmeshed. We are bound one to the other. We’ve never really had a chance of fighting our attraction. We’ve loved each other longer than we’ve been alive.”

“It certainly feels that way.” Anna tries to smile. “So, what does this mean?”

“Nothing,” Elsa says, taking Anna’s hands into her own.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Anna raises her eyebrows at the blonde.

Elsa laughs, clear and happy. She loves the redhead. “It’s taken me a long time to realize this but, prophesy or no prophesy, no one makes our fate but ourselves. So, let’s make our own fate, Anna.”

“Let’s.” Anna leans over and captures Elsa’s mouth. The kiss holds all the love she feels for Elsa.

* * *

They don’t rush.

But, one evening Anna sits in Elsa’s lap, slips her hands into blonde hair, and pulls Elsa into a kiss laced with fire. Their bodies light up under the press and friction.

Elsa apparates them to the bedroom they’ve been sharing purely to sleep. It seems tonight they will christen it something more.

Anna mutters a spell and flesh meets flesh for the first time. Elsa almost drops Anna at the feeling. They just barely make it to the bed.

Elsa realizes they’re both completely new to this. She’s never touched anyone, and she’s certain Anna would have mentioned being intimate with anyone else.

But the newness of the experience doesn’t detract or deter either of them. They fumble, together, toward ecstasy.

And Elsa loses herself in Anna. And Anna loses herself in Elsa. Because tomorrow, and every tomorrow thereafter, may be terrible. So, all they have is the here and now. The choice to be with each other. The choice to live. The choice to love.

* * *

_Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain from you your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you, and let it devour your remains._

_For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover._


End file.
